


Merry & Bright

by Ratkovich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich AU, Ian’s a radio DJ, M/M, Mickey hates skinny jeans, Shitty Hallmark Christmas Movie, Still no mayo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratkovich/pseuds/Ratkovich
Summary: Mickey stars in this year’s newest Hallmark Christmas movie, Merry & Bright. Every year the actors record sound bites that are played on SiriusXM’s Hallmark holiday radio channel and this year, Mickey’s DJ is... well, it’s Ian.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 22
Kudos: 81





	1. Of Skinny Jeans and Snow Flakes

**Author's Note:**

> Attempt #3. Why doesn’t this get any easier?

Mickey leaned in, resting his forehead on hers. Bringing one hand to her neck, the other pulling her waist in tight to his own, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It was a soft, romantic kiss. She pulled away and looked up noticing it had just started to snow around them. Children were running around the park, laughing and playing, taking in the falling flakes. They looked back into each other’s eyes for a fleeting moment and turned back to the snow, hand in hand and laughing, walking towards the children.

A buzzer sounded, “That’s a wrap! Well done everyone. Don’t forget we’ve got the SiriusXM sound bite recordings this afternoon, then you’re all free.” A multitude of groans followed, along with several cast members rolling their eyes. Every year, Hallmark’s biggest stars in their annual Christmas movies recorded sound bites for the Hallmark SiriusXM holiday music channel. These sound bites would play between every few songs, and included actors and actresses sharing their favourite Christmas memories of their families. Mickey hated recording these things. Every year was a new lie, a new made up favourite Christmas memory from when he was a boy, sharing happy Christmas times with his family. Fuck that.

Mickey dusted the fake snow off of his shoulder and shook it out of his hair. Elise, his co-star, chuckling at him as he grumbled and muttered curses under his breathe. 

“God damn, Milkovich. I’d hate to see you in a true snowstorm.. wait. No. Scratch that. I really don’t think I need to witness that.” Elise laughed, brushing the fake snow from her own long brown hair using her fingers. 

“Fuck that. I’m from Chicago, I’m fucking used to that shit. Gets so cold there, my balls hibernate until Spring.” Mickey was still trying to get the stubborn shit off of his charcoal pea coat.

“What the fuck, this shit is probably in my ass crack too.” He walked off set, towards his dressing room taking his coat off. 

“Bye Milky, it’s been a pleasure. Good luck with your sound bite!” Elise pecked him on the cheek and started walking down the hall to her own dressing room. 

“Fuck off with the Milky shit, Elise. I swear to-“

“Jesus fucking Christ guys, this is Hallmark. Stop fucking cursing everywhere!” Dan, their director barked at them as he passed them in the long corridor.

“Milkovich, you better turn up this afternoon. And don’t be an asshole this time, please? I don’t want to hear from the DJ again this year.” 

“That fucker was annoying.” Mickey rolled his eyes

“Whatever. Just be nice, yeah?” Dan walked down the hallway waving his hand in the air, signalling the end of the conversation. Elise chuckled and opened the door to her dressing room. 

**************

Mickey walked into his own dressing room, throwing his coat, scarf and gloves onto the table next to the door. Crossing the room in a couple of strides, he opened the door to the mini bar and grabbed his bottle of Jack. Taking a sizeable swig, he let himself fall back onto the couch, stretching his legs out and cracking his neck side to side. Another Hallmark Christmas movie in the books. Why his agent kept recommending these shitty things to him, he wasn’t sure. Fuckever. They paid well. Even if he had to be straight in every film. Apparently Hallmark wasn’t down for the gays yet. But like seriously, doesn’t the song say, “Make the Yuletide Gay”? What a great name for a porn flick, Mickey chuckled to himself. 

A sudden knock on his door had him looking over quickly. “Yeah?!” He yelled. He sure as fuck wasn’t getting up. 

The door opened a crack and a flustered looking intern peeked in. “Mr. Milkovich? Dan wanted me to tell you that the DJ at Sirius wants to do a full interview with you before your sound bite, okaythanksbye!” the last words came tumbling out nervously and the intern backed away, closing the door as quickly as he’d arrived.

“Fanfuckingtastic.”

He took another swig of his Jack before getting up to change back into his regular clothing. This shit from wardrobe was starting to get uncomfortable. He just wanted to be back in his baggy jeans, Tims boots, and his leather jacket. Fuck this skinny jeans and pea coat crap. 

Heaving a sigh, he pulled himself up off the couch and walked towards the little bathroom in his dressing room. He figured he’d get a hot shower first, get changed, and head down to the SiriusXM studio to get his sound bit recorded and over with. 

Turning the shower on, he started the process of peeling himself out of the skinny jeans. He’d gotten the button and zipper undone and began tugging them down. The jeans got stuck around his thighs. Stupid fucking thick thighs. Muffling out a curse, he sat on the toilet and lifted a leg, successfully yanking the pant leg off when his other leg jerked forward and kicked a small hole in the wall. 

“Whatever. I fucking told wardrobe not to make me wear these things.” Grunting, he got the other leg off. 

“It’s a Christmas fucking miracle!” Mickey called out, throwing the God forsaken pants out of the bathroom. Who looks good in skinny jeans anyway? He thought as he stepped into the now steaming shower, allowing it to relax his muscles.  
Grabbing the loofa, yeah, he’s a loofa guy now (Thanks, Hollywood) he soaped it up and started scrubbing. Reaching around to his ass, he gave it a quick scrub noticing something white and sparkly when he brought the black loofa back around in front of him. 

Snow. Fucking fake snow.


	2. Of Skinny Jeans and Ginger Snaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey goes to Sirius for his interview and sound bite recording

Mickey’s Uber driver pulled over to the side of the busy street, letting him know he’d arrived at the SiriusXM studio. Uttering a quick, “Thanks”, he got out of the car, closing the door behind him. Glancing over to his right, he noticed a Starbucks. He looked at his watch. 2:20pm. He had time to grab a coffee before heading up for his 2:30 appointment.

Walking quickly to the coffee shop, he opened the door and walked in, smelling the blissful scent of Arabica beans. He was just about to get in line when he heard a chorus of “MICKEY MILKOVICH- OH MY GOOOOOD!!”. Great. Fans. Plastering on a sickly sweet smile, he walked over to the group of teenaged girls.

“Hi ladies! Merry Christmas!”

“Mickey! Will you sign this for me?!” a girl handed over a napkin, muffin crumbs tumbling off of it. Her hands were shaking and her eyes were starting to well up. 

“Mick- I LOOOOVED you in last year’s Christmas movie! What was it? Sleigh Bells Ring?” Another girl thrusted a cardboard coaster towards him to sign. 

“Yeah, that was a great one, wasn’t it?” Mickey had perfected sounding cheerful after many years of starring in these holiday movies. After signing several more random Starbucks paraphernalia it was time for him to break it off. “Well ladies, it’s been fun, but I have an interview to get to.” He just really fucking wanted his coffee.

As the girls chattered excitedly to each other, holding their signed items and showing each other, he walked towards the counter and ordered his black coffee. Tapping his credit card on the pin pad, he picked up his drink and checked his watch. 2:35. Fabulous. 

***************

Huffing and panting, Mickey walked through the door of the 10th floor office, labelled SiriusXM Radio. God, he really needed to give up smoking. Ha! 

“Good Afternoon, welcome to SiriusXM! You must be Mr. Milkovich?” The receptionist was young, blonde, pretty, and way too chipper. “Come this way!” 

Chipper Blonde led him down a small hallway, opening the door to a small production office on the left. “Have a seat, Ian should be with you in just a moment.”

Mickey made himself comfortable on the black leather love seat. Setting his coffee on the table in front of him, he pulled a small flask from inside of his leather jacket. He figured he was going to need this to get through the interview and recording. Unscrewing the top and setting it aside, he peeled the lid off of his coffee and poured a sizeable shot into the black drink. He was just screwing the top back on and putting the flask back into his jacket when a tall redhead burst in through the door. 

“You must be Mickey! I’m Ian. Ian Gallagher. Nice to meet you!” Ian held his hand out and Mickey shook it reluctantly. Other hand blindly reaching for his freshly spiked coffee. 

“Likewise, Gallagher.” Swallowing a burning mouthful of Jack and coffee he looked up at the redhead. Fuck. His hair was like, 18,000 shades of red and orange. He had a huge smile and a slightly crooked jaw. His t-shirt was plastered to his chest in only the best of ways, showing his very clearly defined everything. And fuck. God damn it. He was wearing dark blue skinny jeans. And they looked fucking fantastic. Of course they did. He probably didn’t kick walls trying to get out of them either. Or maybe he did. Hell, he’d let this redhead kick a hole in his wall if it meant he was on his ass as tight as those jeans were. 

“...so does that sound okay?” Ian was still yakking away. Mickey was still on the skinny jeans. 

“Uhm. Yeah, great. Sounds good.” He took another swig of his coffee, feeling the whiskey searing down his throat as he swallowed. 

“Great, good! Have a seat over here at the production desk and we’ll get started. Everything is pre-recorded and not live, so we can do as many takes as we need. We’ll do the interview first and then we’ll record the sound bite afterwards.” Ian was talking animatedly, hands flying everywhere as he fumbled with equipment at his desk. Flipping switches and plugging in cords, handing Mickey a set of headphones and putting on his own. Once he got the headphones set comfortably, he took one more sip from his boozy coffee. 

Ian got his own headphones on and flicked the switches on their two microphones. Turning to his MacBook he clicked a couple times and nodded to Mickey that they were ready to go. Mickey leaned forward towards the mic, already unable to wait to get home. He watched as Ian started speaking into the microphone. 

“Hello everyone and welcome to SiriusXM channel 70, the Hallmark holiday music channel! Today we’ve got Mickey Milkovich in the studio, the star of Hallmark’s newest Christmas movie “Merry & Bright”. It’s expected to be out on tv Christmas Eve and we’ve heard wonderful things so far! Mickey, what was it like filming another Christmas movie?” Ian’s green eyes were sparkling as he spoke, animated hands gesticulating and knee bobbing up and down. Do people naturally have this kind of energy without drinking boozed up coffee?

“Thanks Ian, yeah, it’s been great filming with Hallmark again. They do such enjoyable and remarkable work. It’s been a really special to film with their crew again.” Oh, barf. God. Would it be acceptable to just reach for his flask again?

“Oh, that’s excellent Mickey. We’re so excited for you. Tell me, what was your favourite part about shooting this year’s film?” How does he even bob his leg up and down in those tight jeans? Is that a thing people can do in tight ass pants?

“Man, there are just too many good moments, it’s hard to choose just one. I really enjoy the final scene, and I don’t want to give anything away, but the closing scene with falling snow and children everywhere.. it was just truly magical, you know? It really felt like Christmas.” Yeah, it felt like Christmas alright, with fake snow stuck up my ass. Isn’t that what everyone loves about Christmas? 

The interview went on for another few minutes, Mickey growing more and more weary as time slowly ticked on. He could only fake this shit for so long. Seriously, how did he get this gig in these movies anyway?

At the conclusion of the interview, Ian ended the recording and set up for the sound bite. He just had to get through this and then he was done. 

“Alright, so all I need now is for you to share your name, the movie title and then a favourite Christmas memory. These clips are used on channel 70 between every few songs. People love to hear their favourite stars’ Christmas memories. It’s something we’ve all got in common, y’know?” Ian sat back down and clicked around a bit more on the MacBook. “Okay, good when you are, Mickey.” Ian say back down in his chair, legs spread wide. 

Mickey cleared his throat and leaned forward to the mic again. He’d known this recording was coming up and that he’d have to think up some lie again. No one wanted to hear about his actual Christmas memories. 

“Hi, I’m Mickey Milkovich, star of Hallmark’s newest Christmas special Merry & Bright! My favourite Christmas memory as a child was baking Ukrainian Christmas desserts with my mom. My brothers, sister and I would help her while our father put up the tree. Then we’d all decorate the tree and eat some of the fried cookies we made. It was really special and our parents did everything they could to give us the best Christmases ever!” Gag. Spew. Barf. There was no baking. Well, there was the meth that one year. And Terry didn’t put up trees. Although he laid Mickey out like one more than once. 

Mickey took three more mouthfuls of his Jack/coffee while Ian switched off their mic’s and closed down his laptop. 

“That was great Mickey, sounds like a good time. Must’ve been a pretty close family.”

“Yeah, real close.” Close like Terry’s fist to the face. 

“I come from a big family too, parents were shit, but we made do with the holidays.”  
Ian was still talking and multitasking with his equipment. “Thanks for coming in though, Mickey! Really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy your holidays!” God. That smile. Why isn’t this guy in Hallmark movies? Dude would make bank. Seriously. 

Mickey shook Ian’s hand, maybe a little too long, and headed towards the door. Taking one quick glance back at the ginger, noticing again how good those jeans looked hugging Ian’s... everything. Just as he was about to turn back towards the door, Ian looked up and caught him staring. Mickey turned his head downwards, cheeks getting hot. 

“Uhm. Bye Ginger Snap.”

“Bye, Mickey.” Ian chuckled.


	3. Of Setters.... And Skinny Jeans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a Mickey and his dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not super digging this. It’s really more practise for me than anything, experimenting and challenging myself to write more than one chapter. If anyone likes it, that’s a bonus 🤷🏼♀️

Mickey walked into his apartment, setting his keys down on the hallway table. In usual tradition, as soon as he bent down to take off his shoes his dog came running up, tail wagging wildly and bumped him on his nose. Laughing quietly to himself, he bent down onto his knees and brought his hands to his dog’s neck giving her a thorough ruffling. She sniffed and snorted as she continued head butting him, paws prancing on the spot. 

“Okay, okay, hi, HI! Yeah! Who’s a good girl? Are you a good girl? Who’s the best girl!” It must be the whiskey talking. “You want supper, babes? Yeah! Let’s go get supper.” 

Mickey walked into his small kitchen, reaching down for the dog’s bowl. Opening her food container he scooped out two cups of her kibble and filled her dish. Setting it back down, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter watching the Irish Setter devour her dinner. 

Huh. Her fur reminded him of Ian’s hair. God, that hair. He wondered if the rest of the hair on Ian’s body was as red as the hair on his head. He took another drink of his beer, thinking about those skinny jeans. Those long legs. Those legs that were spread as Ian sat in that chair. That smile, slightly crooked, but mostly perfect. Mickey’s own jeans were starting to feel tight, even despite their bagginess. 

Tossing his beer bottle in the recycling bin he walked to his couch and plunked himself down. He pulled his iPhone out and brought up his Facebook account. He wondered if Ian was on there, surely he was if he was a DJ with Sirius? Sure enough, Ian Gallagher popped up in the search results, bright red hair and all. He clicked on his profile and starting looking at his photos. Pictures of Ian with tight tees and more skinny jeans. Some of him taken by others as he danced at some clubs, arms raised in the air, head thrown back and eyes closed as he lost himself in the music. In a couple photos a dark haired man had one arm wrapped protectively around Ian’s waist, resting on this abs. The other hand around his shoulder, barely clasped around Ian’s neck, his head right next to Ian’s, nipping at his ear. Fuuuuuuuck, Mickey thought, subconsciously palming his dick. In another photo, Ian was at the beach, same guy with him, the two of them laying together on a blanket in the sand. Mickey couldn’t see anything beyond the deep cut of Ian’s hips, a little trail of red hair leading under his swim shorts. What Mickey wouldn’t do to lick that line all the way down. 

By this point, his cock was fully hard. Looking at these pictures of Ian was too much. The ginger was unbearably hot. Staring at the lines of Ian’s abs, he undid the button of his jeans and pulled his zipper down. He reached into his jeans, palming at his crotch. Knowing this wasn’t enough, he tucked his hand into his boxer briefs and pulled his cock out, watching as it bobbed after being freed from its tight containment. He licked his hand and grasped himself, twisting his wrist as he started to pump lazily. Holding his phone in on his other hand, he continued to flip through photos of Ian. Sure, this was a little creepy, but Ian would never know. He got to a photo of Ian wearing small, gold, shiny shorts and a tie necklace. Nothing else on, and he was dancing against a pole in a nightclub. One hand reached up behind him grabbing the pole, the other hand cupping his groin. Head bent to face the arm reaching up, eyes closed and mouth wide open. Fuck. Why was Ian dancing at a nightclub?

Mickey’s dick jumped at the sight. He started pumping faster. He flicked to the next photo seeing that it was actually a video of Ian dancing against that pole. He clicked the play button and nearly blew at the sight before him. Ian was rolling his body against the pole, grinding against it and working the small crowd in front of him. Someone put a $20 bill in his shorts. Ian looked down with half lidded eyes, spreading his legs and dipping his body all the way down before standing back up and twirling himself around the pole. Heavy techno music playing in the background, lights flashing. 

Mickey replayed the video as he brought himself to orgasm, his hips bucking forward, head thrown back and eyes clenching shut. 

When he opened his eyes, his Irish Setter was sitting on the floor across from him, head cocked to the side. 

“Oh, fuck you. As if you don’t glop your own asshole every night when I’m trying to sleep.” Mickey reached for a tissue from the end table and cleaned himself up. Watching as his dog got up and walked into the bedroom. 

*************  
Mickey was relieved to be free of obligations the next day. Having no film work until the new year, he figured he may as well get out and do what little Christmas shopping he actually had to do. 

As he was tying his Tims, his Setter came bounding over and dropped her favourite toy, a Raggedy Anne doll, in front of him with pleading eyes. 

“Hey girl, not right now. Wanna come with me though? Go for a walk?” Mickey picked up her leather leash as she started wiggling and jumping to put her paws on his waist. 

“Guess that’s a yes.” Mickey clipped the leash to her collar, grabbing his coat, wallet and keys. Reaching for the door, the excited dog and indifferent human set off down the hallway of the apartment building. 

Moments later, Mickey was walking down a busy pedestrian street, excited Irish Setter in tow. He was scrolling through his phone when he felt a tug on the leash, looking up quickly to see the dog jumping on someone. 

“Hey, HEY! Down! Off! OFF!” Mickey grabbed her collar and sat her down. “Sorry, she does usually do that.”

“All good man, she’s gorgeous!” The stranger knelt down to scratch her behind the ears. “Oh! Hey, Mickey!”

Mickey looked at the man realizing it was Ian, the DJ from Sirius. Oh, what the fuck even, he was wearing another pair of those God damn jeans, too. 

“Hey man, how’s it going? Sorry again for Noelle here.” 

“Noelle? That’s a cute name.”

“Yeah, I adopted her after working on a film years ago. She was the dog in it and retired after production finished up. Needed a home. I took her.” Mickey looked down at Noelle as she stared at Ian, panting and drooling. Yeah, me too girl, he thought. 

“That’s adorable! Hey, uh, what’re you up to right now? You uh.. you wanna grab a coffee or something?” Ian shifted foot to foot, hands in the pockets of his jeans. How do they even fit in those pockets when they’re that tight?  
“Uhm. Yeah. Sure. I think there’s a cafe around the corner with a patio that allows dogs.” 

The two men walked down the sidewalk, a happy ginger trotting along. And Noelle too.


	4. Of Skinny Jeans and Coffee Beans

Mickey took another sip of his coffee, looking down at Noelle as she laid on the patio brick. Ian was animatedly telling him about one of his Christmas memories. 

“What about you, Mick? I liked the story you shared for your sound bite yesterday. It sounded really sweet.” Ian thumbed some foam off of his lips, cocking his head to the side and leaned back in his chair, legs spread wide again. Fuck. How are his legs that long?

“Uh yeah, well, that was kind of a lie. I make up stories every year when I do these things.” Mickey tapped his fingers on the table, not really sure how much into this he wanted to get with a stranger. “We didn’t exactly have the Hallmark childhood.”

Ian’s eyes widened a bit, lips tightening and nodding slowly. “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.”

Mickey stared at his coffee cup and chuckled, thumbing his eyebrow. “Yeah. I’m just glad I’m here now. Away from that fucker who called himself our father. Asshole spent more time making sure our bodies were brightly coloured with bruises than lighting any fucking Christmas tree.”

Ian shifted uncomfortably. “How did you get away?”

“Got out of Juvie one year, started a probation job with a local filming company. They had me do little bit parts from time to time, y’know, save labor by using the unpaid kid, turned out I could act. One thing sort of lead to another, and here we are. I left Southside, Chicago when Dad was back in prison, came out here to LA after getting set up with an agent. ” Mickey brought his cup to his lips, taking another sip. This coffee needed booze. 

“Oh, Chicago?! I’m from the Southside too!” Ian said excitedly, if anyone ever excitedly exclaims that they’re a Southie. “Weird I’ve never seen you around..”

“Probably in juvie or away on runs.” Mickey mumbled, playing with his cup.

“Fair enough, we’ve all had our shit.” Ian leaned forward onto the table, resting his head on his hands. “I didn’t come out here with the greatest story either.”

“Oh yeah? What brought your ass out to the land of hopes and dreams, Red?”   
Ian shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Well, long story short, I was dancing in a club in Boystown and during a manic phase, accepted a job offer down here at a pretty prolific gay nightclub. Got my shit under control eventually but decided I actually kind of liked it here and figured I’d make an honest go of it, you know?”

“Manic? Is that like, Bipolar or whatever?” Mickey sat up a bit straighter, reaching one hand down to scratch Noelle’s neck.

“Yeah, exactly that. High highs, low lows. I didn’t follow my treatment for a while, y’know, denial and shit. Anyway, I’ve been stable now for a couple years and managed to get a job for Sirius and worked my way into becoming a DJ. Usually I record shows for one of the alt rock channels but this year I got roped into the Hallmark one.” Ian’s large hands waved around in the air as he spoke. What else could those large hands do?

The two men continued chatting while finishing their coffee, occasionally tossing bits of their muffins to Noelle. 

“So Mickey Milkovich, what are your grand plans for Christmas Eve then?”

“I plan to sit my ass on my couch, chug a bottle of Jack, and spend time with my main lady in life.” He looked down at Noelle, the dog looking up at him, tongue hanging out, eyes squinting in the sun. 

“I mean, as much fun as that sounds, you uh, you wanna come over to my place? Bring your Lady. We can at least enjoy a shitty Christmas Eve together.” Ian looked hopefully at Mickey, that fucking smile, man.

“Why not, firecrotch,” Ian laughed at the nickname. “We don’t really do holiday cheer though.”

“Mhmmm, we’ll see.” Ian winked at him.

**********************************************

Only a few days later it was Christmas Eve, Mickey had a decent amount of Jack already and he and Noelle were just about to knock on Ian’s door. He shifted the six pack of beer in his arms and knocked his fist against the hard wood, trying not to knock the big ass wreath on the floor.

Ian opened the door, wearing an apron, some dough smushed down the front, his hands full of brightly coloured icing. 

“Hi Mick! C’mon in. I’m just icing these cookies in the kitchen.” He was already walking away, disappearing into what must be said kitchen.

Mickey bent down to unclip Noelle’s leash and followed her as she bobbed down the hallway after Ian.

“Brought some beer.” Mickey sat the six pack on the counter, leaning against it and snagging a cookie to test. A large hand wrapped him on his own, green eyes squinting at him. Mickey slowly put the cookie back down.

“No cookies before dinner!” Ian barked at him. It was at this moment, when Mickey’s eyes travelled downward that he noticed that Ian was wearing skinny jeans again. Seriously. Does this fucker own anything else? Maybe he can’t get them off. Maybe he’s stuck in them. That must be it.

“Fine, fine. What’re we eating, Ginger Snap?” Mickey let Noelle lick the remnants of the cookie off of his hand.

“Nothing fancy, figured I’d just order Chinese from down the street. Thought we could watch a movie or something.” Brushing his hands on his thighs and hanging up his apron, he turned to face Mickey. “C’mon, we might as well start the movie while we wait.”

Mickey followed Ian to the couch, taking note of the back of the skinny jean situation. And what a situation. He imagined kneading that ass, finger nails pressed sharply into it, legs wrapped around Ian’s waist pulling him in tight. He imagined-

“Hey? That okay?” Ian was looking at him peculiarly as he sat down, patting the couch encouraging Noelle to hop up on the other side of him.

“Mhmm? Sorry, drifted off for a sec.” Mickey could feel his cheeks heating up. Fuck. He took a swig of his beer. 

“I asked if we should throw on your new movie, it starts in a few minutes.”

“Ughhhh fuck, no. No, we are not watching that shit.” Mickey wiped his hand down his face. 

It was too late, he looked over at the tv and could see himself on the screen, the opening scene beginning. He watched himself as he slipped on a patch of ice, a nice brown haired woman coming up alongside of him, catching his arm. Suddenly the two characters looked up and saw, of fucking course, they were under a mistletoe under the archway of a park. 

Ian sat on the couch engulfed. Whelp, this is a thing we’re doing now, he thought. He tipped his beer can up, swallowing the rest of it in one go.


	5. Of Skinny Jeans and... No Skinny Jeans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter 🤷🏼♀️
> 
> It was a good exercise in challenging myself to do something longer. Looking back on it, I think there are so many places I could go with it. Maybe one day when I’ve got more practise under my belt.

“OH MY GOD! That’s where the movie’s title comes from! Lisa Merry and Mike Bright!” Ian thought he was super clever for figuring that out. “Aw, Mick, or should I say Mike? You’re so great in this!”

“Mhmm its wonderful, isn’t it?” Mickey slurred, finishing his fourth beer and leaning against the arm of the couch. Even his dog had forsaken him and was curled up on the giant ginger fuck’s lap. All she needed was her favourite Raggedy Anne doll and he’d have a trio of gingers in front of him. 

“It iiiiis! And look! It’s snowing now, that’s so OHMYGODANDTHEYREKISSINGFINALLY!” Ian was having a fit, entirely too drawn into the characters’ love story unfolding in front of him. He was leaning forward on the couch, legs crossed, head resting on his hands and elbows on his knees. Noelle’s head was poking through his arm, head smushed onto Ian’s lap. She was half asleep. Empty Chinese food boxes were strewn about on the coffee table.

“You don’t even want to know where that snow ended up. It’s all fun and games until you have fake snow up your ass.” Mickey grunted, wishing he had another beer nearby. Or maybe a joint. Yeah, a joint would be real good. 

“Aw, Mickey, it was great. Really. Christmas movies are supposed to be cheesy. You’re really a fabulous actor though. You truly had me believing that you love Christmas!” Mickey threw the nearest pillow at him. 

“Ha-Ha. I love Christmas as much as anyone else, Freckles.” Mickey wasn’t even convincing himself. 

“Maybe you just need someone to show you the true meaning of the holiday, y’know?” Ian shuffled a bit closer to where Mickey sat, patting his thigh with a large hand.

“That could be it. Maybe someone should show me what it’s all about. Who could I ask to do that?” Mickey looked around the room before stopping to look into bright green eyes. 

Ian leaned forward, hand travelling up Mickey’s thigh towards his groin. They shared a brief look before Ian dipped his head and captured Mickey’s lips in his own. Mickey felt Ian’s hand reach up and grasp the side of his neck softly, thumb stroking along his cheekbone. Mickey sighed lowly into the kiss. 

“Let me show you Mick. Let me Dick your Halls.”

“Oh my GOD. How did you even say that with a straight face?!” Mickey was rolling his eyes, slapping Ian on the back of his head and unable to hold back his laughter. 

“But baby, I just want to come down your chimney tonight!”

“Gallagher, STOP.”

“Mick, Mick! Look at me! Won’t you please let me jingle your bells?” Ian had shifted to straddle Mickey’s lap. Face still straight, no sign of laughing.

“Fuck me, man, where did I even find you?” Mickey was still chuckling, stopped suddenly and hissing when he felt Ian grind into him, feeling their crotches push together. 

“My candy cane is-“   
“Don’t fucking even, Ginger Snap.” Mickey shut the redhead up with another kiss. Freeing his other hand from holding Ian’s hip, he pushed Noelle off the couch. “C’mon girl, go lay down over there.” Noelle whined, hopping off the couch and settling down on the floor, heaving a deep sigh. 

Ian brought his hands down to the hem of Mickey’s shirt, lifting it up and pushing it to his shoulders. He lowered his head and licked his tongue flat against one of Mickey’s nipples, feeling him arch underneath him. Taking his right hand, he closed his thumb and index finger around his other nipple, twisting and rubbing it. Removing his fingers he licked that one too, and blew the slightest bit on it. 

Mickey let out a breathy moan. Taking his hands to Ian’s t-shirt, he removed it in one quick movement, breathe hitching at the sight of the other man’s toned chest and stomach. He thought back to the picture on Facebook and how he wanted nothing more than to lick down that trail of red hair. Ian was attacking his neck and that special spot right behind his ear. 

“Fuck, Mickey. You taste so good.” Ian panted wetly into his left ear. Ian’s hand travelled down his stomach, stopping at the button of his no-so-skinny jeans. Looking up at Mickey through his eyelashes, he popped the button and undid the zipper. Moving off of him for only a moment, he helped Mickey tug his pants fully off. It was only seconds until Ian was kneeling in between his legs on the floor. Ian started mouthing at Mickey’s cock through his boxer briefs, a wet patch already beginning to show. Ian’s tongue licked the fabric from base to tip, his teeth ever so lightly pinching the material, still making eye contact. Mickey sat mesmerized at the sight in front of him. He didn’t know where to put his hands. 

Ian started tugging on his underwear with his teeth, hooking his thumbs on either side to help the process along. Mickey whined at the sight, hips bucking up into the air. Ian chuckled darkly, removing the garment, along with his own pants and briefs. Mickey watched as Ian took his skinny jeans off with ease. What the ever loving fuck?! Mickey damn near fell off the toilet and kicked a fucking hole in the wall taking his skinny jeans off after filming. Go fucking figure Ginger Adonis here just ever so lightly peels the fuckers off. 

Ian stood for a moment just staring at the blissed out Mickey sitting on his couch. 

“You gonna gargle these bells, or what firecrotch?” Mickey smirked, pulling his semi. 

“Jingle, Mickey. The word was jingle.” Ian’s smile lit up the God damn room. 

Ian knelt back down, spreading Mickey’s legs wide open again. Taking Mickey’s cock in his hand, he licked a flat stripe upwards before closing his mouth around it and taking him as deeply as he could. Hollowing his cheeks and creating the most delicious suction, he bobbed his head up and down. He stopped his bobbing and pulled off with a ‘pop’, taking his tongue and licking it through the slit, tasting each new drop of cum. Working his way down, he took Mickey’s balls one by one into his mouth, sucking and tonguing them. Releasing them he brought his hand up and started lightly squeezing and pulled as he started his assault with his tongue again. 

“Ah, AH, Okay, Gallagher!” Mickey was emphatically tapping on Ian’s shoulder with his hand. “They’ve been sufficiently jingled, they’re gonna snowblow all over you in a sec if you don’t stop!”

Ian giggled, fucking giggled, and pulled himself away from Mickey’s balls. Mickey reached his hands out and pulled him up on the couch, quickly straddling him and looking down into his eyes. Fuck, those eyes. Taking a hand and resting it on Ian’s right shoulder, Mickey looked around expectantly at the end table. 

“Lube? Condoms? Mayo?”

“In the end table the- WAIT, what the fuck? Mayo?” Ian looked dumbfounded.

Mickey shrugged, muttering “I mean, not like we had an abundance of sex toys and shit in juvie, man”. 

Ian reached over Mickey to the end table and pulled out a small bottle of lube and a condom, handing Mickey the tube. Mickey quick popped the top, squeezing a bit out onto his fingers, rolling them around a bit to heat up the liquid. 

Once it was warmed up, he gripped his knees on either side of Ian’s lap and reached around behind himself, breaching his own hole with his two fingers. Riding himself up and down, working himself open, he continued holding onto Ian’s shoulder, head cocked to the side, eyes barely open. He felt like a damn porn star. 

“K, Mick, your chimney’s wide open enough for me, Santa needs in!”

“Refer to yourself as a jolly fat fucker in a red suit one more time and see how fast I get off this lap.” Mickey removed his fingers from himself, just as anxious as the redhead anxious to get this going. 

Ian rolled his condom on and placed his hands on either side of Mickey’s hips guiding him over his cock. Mickey lowered himself feeling Ian’s length push against his hole. He couldn’t quite get Ian inside of him on the first go, leaning back up and pushing down again. Feeling himself being penetrated, he threw his head back and moaned loudly, feeling Ian’s width putting pressure everywhere. He could feel Ian’s hands sliding up his sides and his cock pushing up inside of him. Fuck, he was deep already. Bringing his hands to the back of the couch and holding on for leverage, he started to bounce on Ian’s lap. 

Ian curled his fingers, scraping his finger nails down Mickey’s back and groaned and the sight of Mickey taking his cock while he sat back on the couch. Mickey’s mouth was wide open, head now brought forward to look Ian in the eyes, still using the back of the couch as leverage to throw himself down onto his dick. On one particularly hard push, Mickey muffled a scream into his left arm. Ian’s cock hit him dead on that sweet bundle of nerves. Twisting his hips around, he rode that spot as long as he could before he felt the need to pound again. Fingers clenching the couch so hard his knuckles were white, he amped up his bouncing using the couch to pull himself up and push himself down. 

Ian’s voice shuddered a cry, “Fuck Mick, fuck I’m coming!”

With that, Ian’s body jerked off the couch for a moment, he had to grab Mickey with one arm around his waist to keep him from falling backwards, using his other arm to balance himself and thrust into Mickey, riding his orgasm out. 

Mickey revelled in being manhandled like this and was blowing as soon as Ian had thrown his arm around his waist, no one even making contact with his cock. 

“Fuck. I don’t know how Santa only comes once a year.” Ian wiped his forehead, sweat dripping from his brow. 

“Jesus fuck, Gallagher. I really don’t think that’s what they mean by that.” Mickey had slumped forward, arms dangling over the back of the couch, chin resting on Ian’s shoulder. 

Moments later when they had caught their breathe, Mickey rolled off of Ian and sat beside him. 

“Hey, Red?” Mickey stared up at the ceiling, too fucked out to even move his head.

“Mhmm?” Ian was laying back against the couch, head resting on the ledge, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. A droplet of sweat rolled down between his pecs. 

“How do you get your skinny jeans off so easily?”


End file.
